


The Many Uses of Garland

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Christmas, F/M, Philinda 24 Kisses Challenge, Post Academy, a teeny bit of suggestive positioning, agents of shield spoilers for season 2, garland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye's excitement for Christmas causes Melinda May to revisit her own memories of the holiday...and to rethink past decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Many Uses of Garland

**Author's Note:**

> There was a Marvel Wiki article that mentioned Phil's mom's name was Julie. I wasn't terribly fond of it, so I made a minor change, otherwise it's about the same.
> 
> This is for the Tumblr challenge, Philinda 24 Kisses. My prompt was 'garland'.

**The Playground- Vault D**

"This place is sorely lacking for some serious Christmas spirit." She'd gone down for paperwork- anything among Peggy Carter's personal files that pertained to the earlier days in the Playground, when things were first established and the search for the original 084 had begun. Skye had trailed behind and become so engrossed in her search for Christmas decorations that May had almost forgotten she was there, realizing it only when the sound of her voice broke the silence.

 "I came for the files, Skye, not to discuss holiday plans."

"But it looks like Carter and her gang decorated like gangbusters." As May gave her a sideways glance, brow arching slightly, Skye gestured to the boxes she'd hauled from higher shelves. "All of these are labeled for Christmas. Looks like they even had a tree- there are a ton of ornaments in these."

"Skye."

"Hey, I can't help it if I get excited about Christmas. You try growing up in an orphanage and decorating when there are a million kids underfoot." She reached for a box and flipped the lid open, rifling through the contents with an enthusiasm May had come to expect- although she had to admit that she'd never imagined it on the scale she was seeing at that moment. "Come on, May- didn't you like decorating for Christmas when you were a kid?"

The truth was, May admitted to herself- she _hadn't_ liked it. Had hated the day they'd haul the lights down from the attic and her mother would slowly pass string after string to a tiny Melinda who would stretch to the very tip of her toes in order to reach the tallest branches. Maybe she hadn't always hated it, but the months she could remember the most were the ones after her father had left them and the days had gotten darker, the tree a tradition they'd carry out only halfheartedly - before she got too old to care anymore. When she'd left for the Academy she'd never thought about it again, and Christmas would find her sparring on the mats with whoever it was she could manage to convince to go with her, trying to forget about the pain the day had always caused her.

_Phil is the one who likes Christmas_. In all of the years May had known Phil Coulson he'd been an unfailing source of enthusiasm- reminding her in a lot of ways, she realized, of Skye- the way their eyes would light up at something so simple as a Christmas ornament.

Something caught her eye as she stared absently at the stack of boxes, and as she reached out May realized it was an old pin from the S.S.R, strung up on a thin piece of twine. As she let it dangle from her fingers she thought back to the first time she'd experienced Phil Coulson's enthusiasm for the holidays- and the first time she'd realized how large a part he would be destined to play in her life.

 

**Many Years Prior- One Year after graduating from the Academy**

"Christmas in Pennsylvania." Phil inhaled deeply, tiny clouds of vapor puffing from his mouth as he released the breath and reached for Melinda's hand to grasp it tightly. "It's my favorite time of year. Beautiful, isn't it?"

 "If you like this sort of thing, sure. Clint and Natasha went to Hawaii, and _some_ people like _that_ sort of thing." She hated winter, hated the crunch of snow beneath her feet that squeaked like nails on a chalkboard, shivers caressing her spine beneath a thick winter jacket. _There are perfectly good reasons that I don't come home to visit my mother in the winter, and this is one of them._

"You could have gone with them." His eyes never left the skyline and Melinda felt a flush of shame warm her cheeks as she turned her head to watch him enjoying the view. Phil loved the seasons changing, had always been the one in the group to take on a warm glow of excitement when the first leaves of fall slowly began to drift to the ground. It was, she reminded herself, one of the first things she'd realized she loved about him- when the realization had fallen on her that she _did_ love him.

"But then I wouldn't get to see you on Christmas," Her arm looped through his and they started the slow walk down the shoveled path to his mother's front door, picking their way over the hazardous lumps of ice left behind after the melting snow had frozen again. "And I don't care how much snow we get, I'd rather spend the time with you than watch Clint and Natasha making out on a beach somewhere."

"Even if that beach is warmer?"

"Even if." She took the bags as he unlocked the door and pushed through, into a bright yellow kitchen awash with the scent of fresh bread and coffee. "Besides, I'm sure the beach doesn't smell nearly as amazing as this. You didn't tell me your mother bakes."

"Normally I don't- but I've been known to make exceptions when it comes to my son." As she set their luggage down Melinda found herself enveloped in a warm hug, arms surrounding her that smelt of yeast and coffee. "And his friends."

"Mom- this is Melinda." Phil was quickly taken in the same embrace, although Melinda found herself smiling as his mother pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of his head. He'd inherited the same sandy brown hair that his mother had, although hers fell in thick, wavy curls that she'd pulled into a quick bun- a few errant springs framing her face as she smiled at them. "Melinda, this is my mother...Juliet Coulson."

"Call me Julie. I haven't heard Phil talk about anyone else in weeks- not the way he talks about you. It's so nice to finally have the chance meet you, sweetheart." The earlier hug hadn't been uncomfortable, Melinda reflected, but the way his mother looked at her at that moment was. Julie Coulson had passed her eyes on to her son as well as her personality- the same intense blue that could peer into her soul, searching for the one thing she wondered if either of them would ever find.In his mother's case Melinda imagined it was the woman her son had fallen in love with. _I don't even know why he loves me- so if you find out, be sure to let me know._ "Get her settled in, Phil- the bread should be done soon, and I thought we could all have toast and coffee. It's still so early."

"I think we still have some of that tea my father brought home from Japan. I know you don't like coffee- but I didn't really have the chance to tell my mom." Melinda trailed after him as he led her down a cheerful hallway, blue walls with honey-colored baseboards that shone with polish. There were so many photographs, the majority with a smiling boy in Captain America uniforms and battered t-shirts, and she paused to inspect one with a gap-toothed grin under a crooked baseball cap.

"You were cute."

"Were?" Phil tugged her in for a brief kiss and Melinda laid her head on his shoulder as they both considered the photo. "I was seven- playing outside with the kids next door, and the baseball took my tooth out."

"Sounds painful."

"I don't know- I think, at the time, the sight of that much blood was so cool that I didn't realize how much it hurt until my mom was pressing a raw steak against my face." He reached up to rub his lip thoughtfully, the same place she imagined the baseball had found its mark. "Tommy Johnson was a terrible pitcher."

"I can't imagine you playing baseball."

"I did a lot of things back then that I can't imagine myself doing now- that was one of them." She'd lied, Melinda thought, because the moment she'd seen the picture the image of a small boy with shocks of pale brown hair had started to take over her mind. That same little boy would slide into first base with the sweet enthusiasm of a child, shoot a goofy grin into the stands where his parents would cheer, and chocolate ice cream would smear over his face when they took him out after to celebrate. "But I couldn't imagine myself bringing a girl home to my mother who was quite as beautiful as you, so I guess there are a lot of things that went in a different direction than I thought."

The room he led her into was small but comfortable, and as Phil placed her bags on a neatly made twin bed in the corner Melinda took the time to inspect the photographs on the wall in that room as well. These were different, framed pictures of autographs from times they'd both grown up in, although the pictures on her walls had been of different superheroes. Amelia Earhart and Peggy Carter making waves in the world- not Steve Rogers, or Christopher Reeves flying high over the clouds with Superman's cape fluttering behind him.

"I thought you'd like it in here," Phil came up behind her and wrapped his arms securely around her waist, nuzzled his nose into the soft skin behind her ear. "Things here don't change a lot- it's the reason I like to come home as much as I can."

"I can see why." The warmth of a home didn't just come from the house itself, she thought, but a fair amount of it came from the memories of the childhood he'd lived within it. They were all products of their environments, and if anyone was a reflection of _that-_ it was Phil Coulson. "You know, I'd be happy to sleep on the couch. You don't have to give me the only extra bed."

"What can I say- my mother raised me not to let the people I love suffer. And that couch is definitely not the place I want you sleeping tonight." They'd discussed arrangements on the way down, the long drive allowing plenty of opportunity for talk about the holidays. His mother, Melinda had learned, was a woman whose life had been spent taking care of people- working at the food bank, making dinner for her family each night- until his father had died and she'd turned to the world for a career in a women's shelter. Helping others, which was a quality Melinda knew without a doubt had been passed to her son. _He always has my back._ "Tomorrow night I'm going out to get the tree, and Mom is pulling the decorations down from the attic, so we can make popcorn and string it up."

  "You string popcorn on your tree? I suppose you do cranberries, too."

  "What traditional tree-trimmer doesn't string cranberries?" Phil gestured to the bureau by the bed, keeping his other arm tight around her waist. "That should be empty, if you wanted to unpack anything."

"There are a few things I'd like to unpack..." Melinda let her hand drift down between them, palm cupping his jeans suggestively, and his breath was warm as Phil groaned softly in her ear. "You don't think your mother would notice if we were a little late for dinner, do you?"

"She's really... _uh_...big on punctuality."

 "Well, then-" Backing up until Phil tumbled onto the bed, she turned to allow her body to tumble down on top of him. "We'll have to be be quick...and quiet. Won't we?"

 ~~~

The scent of pine was strong, blending with the spicy, unmistakable smell of apple cider, and Melinda tilted her head up to breathe it all in as they wove through the small forest of trees. A tree farm was a place she wasn't terribly comfortable, and as she grasped Phil's gloved hand tightly he leaned over to whisper in her ear, bringing a tiny small to her lips.

 "I'm not afraid."

"You look like you're expecting Hydra to jump out from behind a tree at every turn," He teased, and lifted a hand to point at the tree directly in front of them. "What about that one?"

"Looks a little indecent, the way the it flares out at the bottom," Melinda reached out as they stepped closer, ran her fingers through the upper branches. "And I don't know about you, but after what we did last night...I don't know if I can handle having a tree in the living room that looks like a-"

"My mother's around here somewhere- she doesn't need to know _what we did last night_ ," He leaned in to breathe warmly in her ear again, added a gentle flick of his tongue against her earlobe. "But it is something I'd really like to repeat, as soon as we have a chance."

"I think I could handle that." As Phil pulled her in for a long, passionate kiss she heard the soft crunch of snow, footsteps approaching from their left, and as abruptly as he'd pulled her close she placed her hands on his chest to push him away. "Mrs- Julie. Hi."

"Don't let me interrupt." Amusement lit Julie Coulson's face as she beamed at them, shaking her head good-naturedly. "There's nothing more romantic than shopping for Christmas trees with the person you love. Phil's father and I had a wonderful time shopping for our first tree together."

"I'm sure." Melinda lifted a gloved hand to her mouth, hiding the grin spreading over her own face as Phil's began to turn a deep shade of red, matching the scarf wrapped snug around his neck. When he'd taken it from the hall closet that morning she'd laughed, tugged it tight and taken the ends in her hands to pull him in for a kiss much like the one they'd just shared- thinking about how wonderful he looked in red. He'd whispered about how much he wanted her then, and the sweet muttering had been interrupted by the appearance of his mother coming in with a hat and gloves for Melinda. A snowy white that she thought made her eyes stand out, and Phil had whispered that she looked beautiful in white."We might try our luck on the other side of the field."

"I'll meet you two at the cashier's shed- I hear the cider is lovely." As his mother vanished into the dense forest of trees Phil buried his face in Melinda's shoulder, reached up to caress her cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me you were this frisky _before_ we started seeing each other?"

"A girl has to save _some_ of her secrets, Phil." Catching his hand she squeezed tightly, before hauling him off in the opposite direction his mother had gone. "Come on- lets find ourselves a tree."

Hours later they'd found the perfect one, and as Phil knelt in front of the fireplace to adjust kindling she watched with fascination while the muscles of his back shifted beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. All she could think of at that moment was how he'd hauled the tree up the front steps in a thick winter coat with the red scarf trailing, and as he turned to catch her staring she'd laughed.

"Sorry- I was just thinking."

"About how much fun you're having?" He rocked back on his heels and stared at the curling smoke, watched the beginning of a flame lick at the pyramid of wood he'd built up. "Building a fire was never something I was very good at. My dad could always get the wood to catch right away."

"How did he die?" She'd never asked, she realized, the entire ride having given her plenty of time to learn about his childhood- but she'd never asked _that_. As the fire caught and Phil pushed back to lean on her, Melinda leaned her chin against the top of his head to breathe in the smoky scent of his hair. Her own father had died when she was so young that she hardly remembered him, and she wondered what sort of lessons he might have taught her if he'd lived.

"He didn't. He ran away- I don't know why, and I don't think I ever want to." He stared into the flames and she inhaled again, let the comfortable smell of him combine itself with the lingering aromas of hot chocolate and fresh popcorn. "I stopped being angry a long time ago. He taught me things I needed to know to get through life, and even if I can't understand why he left my mother, or me- the things he taught me were valuable, and those are the memories I'm going to hang on to. Around the holidays...it just gets harder, sometimes, to not wonder what my life might have been like if he hadn't gone."

"I think it would have been a lot like this."

"Do you?" Phil turned and she stared into his eyes, bluer than ever as the firelight illuminated them.  _I still wonder what he sees in me, but every time I look at his face- I know exactly what I see in him._ "So what do you think about decorating the tree? The popcorn should be cool by now, and I know you need a refill on the hot chocolate."

"Your mother makes incredible hot chocolate. I hope you know the recipe-you never know when we'll be sent somewhere that isn't quite as nice as the last few places we've been."

 ~~~

"We're out of cranberries." The last of the fat red berries was strung and Melinda held the half-finished strand in the air, spreading her arms as wide as possible to reveal the unfinished product. "Do you think your mother has another bag somewhere?"

"That was the last one- and the roads aren't in any kind of condition for us to go out and buy more." Phil had taken charge of the popcorn and held his own strand up, considering it thoughtfully. "At least we have enough of this. So the tree will be seventy-five percent popcorn garland and twenty-five cranberry."

"Even though you've eaten most of the popcorn." She reached out to grab a handful, lobbing several pieces in his general direction. "Are you sure you didn't overstock it on purpose?"

"Just as sure as I am that you ran that needle into your finger every time you strung another cranberry." Phil reached for her right hand and lifted it into the flickering light of the fire, red and yellow flames licking violently into the air and illuminating their handiwork. It also gave him a view of the tiny punctures on one of Melinda's fingers, and as her lips parted in surprise he slipped it easily between his teeth.

"For someone who keeps scolding me about being too _frisky_ -" She arched her eyebrows as his tongue circled her fingertip, and wondered if the warmth flooding her face was due to the fire itself or the way he was rubbing his thumb over the palm of her other hand. "-you're getting awfully off track yourself."

"We don't have enough for the other garland, so clearly we're done here." _Thank god his mother stayed next door tonight._ Once they'd gotten the tree indoors and propped onto its stand Julie had excused herself to play cards across town with a friend, stating that if the weather became too treacherous she'd be staying overnight and they'd be left to their own devices. _If I didn't know any better I'd think this was part of the 'wonderful time' she and Mr. Coulson had on their first Christmas together._

"Or...we could find a way to use the little bit of the garland we _do_ have." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, withdrawing her fingers from his mouth before reaching for the string of popcorn and tossing it around his shoulders. When something sparkled in the light she leaned closer, let the end of it trail through her fingers before coming to the hard, shining object that had caught the reflection of the flames. "This is supposed to be a popcorn garland, Phil- what else did you put on here?"

"You weren't supposed to find that until Christmas morning." Phil reached for the string, pulling off several fluffy kernels to let the tiny ring drop into his palm. _It's beautiful_ , Melinda thought, and she let him lift her hand to hold the ring in front of her finger hesitantly. "I was going to wrap it- but I know you said you didn't have a lot of great memories when it came to decorating the tree, so I thought you might appreciate this a little more." He cleared his throat and smiled nervously-a smile she hadn't seen since the day he'd asked her out for the first time. "Melinda May...will you marry me?"

 

**Present Day- The Playground- Vault D**

"Wait a second- you guys got _married_?" May sighed, and settled back on her heels to stare at the ornament she still held in her hand as she tried to shake the melancholy that had taken over her thoughts. Skye was right- it was definitely something Coulson would appreciate. "Are you...are you guys still married now?"

"No." The time had felt right when he'd proposed to her, in front of a warm fire with the rich scent of chocolate in the air and the taste of popcorn on his lips. After she'd said yes they'd made love without a thought about the future, nothing else on their minds at the moment beyond the fact that the rest of their lives belonged to each other. Years later, when events had torn them apart, she'd always gone back to that night in her mind to find the calm she'd felt that day. "Life happened. It always does."

"He still loves you, doesn't he?" Skye glanced at May's bare ring finger, arched an eyebrow. "You guys might not wear those rings anymore, but anyone would have to be crazy not to see how either of you feel."

"It's not that simple."

"Maybe _you_ don't think so. But it's Christmas...and Christmas is the time of year when people get those second chances they always want. You guys don't have to be an exception to that, May, even if _you_ think you are." As Skye buried herself in the search for more decorations May climbed to her feet with ornament still in hand, wrapped her fingers securely around it and headed up the stairs out of the vault. _Maybe she's right._ That Christmas had been the first she could remember when she'd been happy, when all she'd known was a partner who embraced every part of her in every way she'd ever wanted. And pushing him away had been the one thing she'd always regretted more than anything else.

Phil was in his office, glasses perched on the edge of his nose as she strode through the door and closed it behind her, the light in the hall visible through the frosted glass. When he looked up over the frames his smile was soft, and May came to an abrupt halt as he pushed back from the desk to stand up and tilt his head expectantly.

"May. Did you see find anything we could use to track down the alien city?" _Of course- he thinks that's what I was looking for._ He hadn't known- wouldn't have had any way to know- that Skye had gone with her and was digging for holiday knickknacks to brighten their lives. Or that she'd have come across something to make May reconsider her own. But as she hesitated he came closer, and when his eyes met hers she knew he suspected something else was on her mind."What is it?"

"Do you ever think we made the wrong choice?" She felt the cool metal of the pin press into her palm, held out her hand to slowly uncurl her fingers and let him see the treasure Skye had unearthed. As he reached for it his own fingers brushed her skin and she remembered what it was like, when they always touched each other and everything was different.

"This is from the S.S.R. One of their old insignia pins."

"Skye found it. She came down with me, looking for Christmas decorations, and found a few just like this. But no garland." His eyes lit with understanding, and May let a smile curl over her lips as she watched his face. "She thought you might appreciate this one- and so did I."

"I do." He stepped closer and she stayed where she was, felt his free hand take hers, thumb gently running over her bare finger. "And I think about those choices every day. We made the decisions we did back then because we were young- and you did what you thought you had to do. But there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wonder what things would be like if nothing had ever changed."

"It was my fault," She murmured, and he set the pin on his desk before reached up to cup her cheek. _He's still the only one who ever made me feel this way._ "I couldn't handle it, Phil...after Bahrain. I pushed you, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Melinda." The familiar flutter in her stomach had come back, a feeling she hadn't felt in years- but somehow she hadn't forgotten. It was the same thing she'd felt the day he'd asked her to marry him, the day she'd known she'd never wake up without seeing his face, or go to bed without knowing without a doubt that he loved her back. "You know I love you. I've never stopped."

The kiss was as familiar as the way Phil wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and giving her the chance to breathe in the scent of his cologne. It was different now- time adding lines to his face she didn't remember and strands of grey that hadn't been there before- but the way he held her was the same, and she sighed into his ear before he pulled back to look into her eyes.

"I never stopped for a second, being in love with you."

"Merry Christmas, Melinda." His smile brightened and he glanced at the closed door, down at the ornament on his desk before tugging her back in for a long, lingering kiss that made her body tingle. "I think we have some popcorn in the kitchen, and I happen to know I make a great popcorn garland."

"Not a chance. We may not have your mother here to interrupt us, but we _do_ have Skye. Don't think for a _second_ that she won't come looking for us as soon as she gets the rest of those decorations unpacked." Her eyes met his and she let her own smile blossom, going in for yet another long and familiar kiss. "But you know...I suppose we could be quick."

"And quiet." May let out a moan, arching her back beneath the gentle touch of his fingertips as he began to unfasten the buttons on her shirt.

"Merry Christmas, Phil."

"Shh." His mouth covered hers again, and she let herself get lost in the touch of his skin. It was time to make another memory...and May knew she'd remember this Christmas just as vividly.

 

 


End file.
